


Hold On Until Tomorrow Comes

by Marblez



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:03:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: What if Crutchie wasn’t the only one to get snatched up and sent to the Refuge?





	1. You’re Allowed To Scream...

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warning - a character gets caned

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Newsies, nor will I be making any money out of this story.

**Summary**: What if Crutchie wasn’t the only one to get snatched up and sent to the Refuge? 

**Warnings**: Violence, Child-Abuse, Omega-Verse

Hold On Until Tomorrow Comes 

Chapter One - You’re Allowed To Scream 

Finch groaned, a hand moving to cradle the back of his head which was throbbing with pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before. 

What had happened? 

Opening his eyes he was blinded by sunlight for a brief moment, causing him to hiss and clamp his eyes she once more. After a couple of deep breaths to help him cope with the pain he managed to turn his head away from the light and cracked open his eyes once more. 

His surroundings were entirely unfamiliar. 

Where was he?

“Hey! Hey! New boy!” an equally unfamiliar voice hissed sharply at him. “You awake?”

A glance across to the owner of the voice brought realisation crashing down upon him. 

The boy was thin as a rake, clad in dirty clothes that were far too small for him and was sporting several nasty cuts and bruises. 

He was sat on the bottom bunk of a set of bunk beds which seemed to be one wrong move away from collapsing and behind the bunk bed was a window; a barred window. 

The Refuge. 

_ He was in the refuge.  _

His eyes went wide and, despite the pain, he pushed himself up into a sitting room so that he could properly take in his surroundings. 

Daylight flooded into the room through a second window, the one that he’d been facing when he woke up, and exposed everything. 

Vermin of every kind were scurrying across the floor, moving from shadow to shadow in their search for food. A layer of dirt covered everything and on top of that dirt he could clearly see the tell tale sign of blood spatter. 

His vision swam suddenly, his body swaying precariously, and when he brought his hands down to steady himself he noticed that one of his hands was covered in bright red blood. 

A lot of it. 

“Oh...”

“Yeah, you’ve got a pretty nasty gash on the back of your head,” another unfamiliar voice drawled at him from one of the upper bunks to the right of his. “What did they hit you with?”

The memory of a baseball bat swinging towards Davey flashed before his eyes. 

“...a baseball bat...” he mumbled, his tongue heavier than it should have been. “I think...”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” 

A weak groan from behind him almost caused him to fall off of the bed as he flailed in shock, turning over so he could get a good look at...

“Romeo?”

“Finch?” 

He was moving before he even realised it, wrapping the smaller newsie in his arms. 

A hitched breath escaped the notorious flirt. 

“Finch, we got snatched...”

“I know,” he responded, his own voice less than steady. Pulling back slightly he caught sight of the truly horrific bruise blossoming across the left side of the younger boys face; it took up almost all of his cheek whilst the skin around his eyes was puffy and swollen. The image of Romeo being backhanded by the police officer burned through his mind, along with the memory of the thud his body had made when it struck the floor and how long it had taken for him to recover enough to crawl away. “You hurt anywhere else? Romeo?” 

A whimper and a nod was his only response. 

“Ok, well just let me...”

“Finch?” a painfully familiar voice called out from above him, causing his head to snap back as he searched out its owner. The pain brought about by tat particular move was so intense he feared that he was going to either throw up or pass out or both. “Is that you?”

“Crutchie...”

A smile, so much smaller than the ones that usually graced his friends face, came his way. 

“Yeah,” the crippled boy sighed, wincing as he shifted on the bed so that he could get a better look at his friends on the lower bunk. He’d been beaten with his own crutch, Finch suddenly remembered with mounting horror. “Are you ok? You’ve been unconscious since they brought us here yesterday morning...”

A day?

They’d been in the Refuge for a day already?

“I’m fine,” Finch replied automatically, all but lying through his teeth as the pain was only getting worse, his head throbbing in time with the rapid staccato of his heart. Trying to offer the younger newsies a reassuring smile he returned his hand to the back of his head, his stomach lurching threateningly as he applied pressure to the gash. It felt as though it were bleeding sluggishly rather than rapidly which he though was a good sign. “Or I will be...”

“Romeo?” Crutchie called down. “You ok?”

A weak whimper and a nod was his response. 

Crutchie opened his mouth, obviously intending to say something, but snapped it shut quickly when someone hissed sharply,

“Snyder!” 

As one every boy in the room, and there were significantly more than Finch had originally realised, ducked theirs heads or pretended to be asleep. A couple even covered their heads with their thin blankets so as not to be seen. 

All bar Finch, Crutchie and Romeo, that is; they remained frozen in place as they were. 

The door swung open with a reverberating thud, more than one boy desperately trying not to flinch or whimper in response, and in walked the familiar figure of Mr Snyder. He was even more terrifying up close and in a confined space than he had been when the newsies had seen him on the streets, always on the prowl for his next victim. Before they could run, they could hide but now...now they could do nothing but watch as he approached. 

“Hello, boys,” he sneered at them, his gaze going first to Romeo and Finch before settling on Crutchie on the top bunk. His eyes were burning with a mixture of fury and delight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to welcome you to the refuge yesterday but there’s just so much to do when we get new inmates, you see?” 

_ Inmates _ . 

Finch barely suppressed a shudder. 

Snyder reached into his front pocket, bringing out a notebook and the remains of a pencil. 

“As none of you have been our guests before I’ll be needing some information from all of you so, cripple boy, let’s start with you. What’s your name?” he enquired, his tone of voice making it clear that refusal to answer was not an option. “And what’s your designation?” 

A feeling of dread blossomed in Finch’s gut. 

“Charlie Morris,” Crutchie answered. “And I’m a Beta, not that that’s any business of yours...”

Had he not been watching for it Finch would have missed the look of disappointment on Snyder’s face as the man jotted his friends details down on the sheet. It was strange that he didn’t bother to ask him how old he was...

“And you, small one?” 

“...Romeo,” the younger boy answered from behind Finch, his voice smaller than either he or Crutchie had ever heard before. “Just...just Romeo. I don’t remember my last name. Sir.”

Snyder huffed loudly but said nothing. 

“And I haven’t presented yet,” Romeo continued nervously. “I’m only thirteen.”

Designations, as they were often referred to by doctors and the like, didn’t make themselves known until an individual had gone through puberty so it wasn’t unsurprising that Romeo hadn’t presented yet given that he was one of if not  the youngest of the Manhattan newsies. 

And there was the disappointment again...

“And lastly but by no means least...?”

“Patrick Cortes,” he answered reluctantly, his real name feeling strange on his tongue after years of going by noting but Finch. “Omega.”

The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach transformed into outright fear as a spark of interest appeared in Snyder’s cold blue eyes. 

“Yes, I thought I smelled an Omega. Didn’t think it would be you though, boy,” Snyder murmured, putting the notebook and pencil away before crouching down in front of Finch. “Right, then, on your feet Mr Cortes. Move.”

“...what?” 

“We have a special room for Omega inmates,” Snyder explained with a leer, reaching out to grab Finch by his upper arm so that when he rose back up to his full height he literally dragged the seventeen-year-old with him. “It isn’t safe to keep unbounded Omegas locked in the same room as immature Alphas. They could get hurt or worse if they go into Heat.” 

Romeo let out a frightened whimper which only seemed to excite Snyder, a cruel smirk appearing on his face as he all but dragged Finch towards the door, his grip so tight that the teenager feared he would end up with a ring of bruises around his arm. None of the other boys so much as made eye contact with him as he was removed from the bunk room. 

“Don’t move.”

His arm was released but he couldn’t have run even if he wanted to, his legs refusing to move. 

He watched as Snyder pulled the door shut, turning the key which had been left in the lock until the latch clicked into place. A plank of wood was then placed across the door, resting in two metal hooks which ensured the door couldn’t be opened even if someone managed to pick the lock, before two bolts were secured at the top and bottom of the door. There was no way anyone was getting out of that room. 

Snyder turned to him once he was done, looking the teenage Omega up and down. 

“You’d be a pretty little Omega if you weren’t so dirty and skinny,” he announced, reaching out to tug at Finch’s vest. His scent, which had already been pretty foul before, intensified and he couldn’t help but flinch back and rub at his nose. Some Alphas smelled good, like Jack and Race, others less so, like Sniper who was incredibly self-conscious about his scent but Snyder...Snyder was one of the worst he’d ever encountered. “Don’t you dare flinch away from me, boy!” 

A hand grabbed him by the back of the neck, dragging him forwards and down. He yelped, he couldn’t help it, and in response Snyder dug his nails into the teenagers skin whilst pulling him along the corridor. In his bent over position he couldn’t see where he was going, couldn’t anticipate the turns that they took and he stumbled more than once before they finally came to a halt in front of another door. 

As he waited for Snyder to unlock the door, this one only secured by two bolts and a normal lock, his vision swam and without meaning to he lurched to one side. In response to the perceived attempt to slip out of the wardens grip he was shaken, the rough motion aggravating his head wound causing him to cry out sharply before vomiting uncontrollably. 

“How  dare  you defile my clothes with your filth?!” Snyder roared as the foul liquid splattered all over his smart black shoes and the bottoms of his equally smart trousers. He didn’t seem to care that Finch had suffered worse than him, vomit staining the front of his undershirt and vest as well as his tattered boots. “I can see I’m going to have my work cut out for me with you, boy! Get into there!” 

Finch was all but thrown through the door once it had been wrenched open, stumbling wildly. His left foot caught on something, he wasn’t sure what, but all that really mattered was the fact that it sent him crashing down onto his hands and knees with a cry of pain. 

Around him the occupants of the room shifted, curling themselves up into smaller targets on their bunks as Snyder stormed into the room after him. He was grabbed by his hair, the move sending bolts of pain through his skulls so bad that he almost threw up again but in the end merely let out a pain filled scream as he was dragged further into the room to where a steamer trunk sat seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Someone whimpered when his body was pulled over the trunk, stretching him over it so that his back was arched painfully high. 

“Holden!” Snyder snapped. “The cane!”

Panic flooded through Finch’s system as he heard a boy scurry across the room to hand the requested item to the man who shifted so as to pin the seventeen-year-old down with an arm across his back, using his considerable body weight to trap him in place on the trunk. 

There was a moment then when nothing happened, the silence of the room broken only by the sharp sounds of Finch’s terrified breaths and Snyder angry hisses and grunts. 

And then, suddenly, pain. 

It lanced across his cloth covered backside, dragging a near hysterical scream from him. 

Snyder’s arm rose and fell, bringing the narrow strip of wood down upon his victim again and again until there was nothing but pain for the poor newsie, one strike blending in with the next until his backside and the tops of his thighs simply burned all over in pure agony. 

How many times the warden struck him he didn’t know. 

Enough that when the blows finally ceased to come Finch couldn’t move, his body limp where it hung over the top of the steamer trunk. His voice was wrecked, his cries having been torn from him so brutally that his throat felt like it was made of sandpaper, and he could barley breath through his flood of tears. 

“Next time I won’t go so easy on you, you filthy little gutter rat!” Snyder panted down at him, his face flushed red from the exertion. “You will learn your place, boy, and you’d better do it fast or you’ll regret it. I promise you that!” 

And then with that strong word Snyder was gone, storming out of the room after throwing the cane at the boy who had brought it over to him. Finch sobbed pathetically as the door was slammed shut, locked and bolted, his head hanging weakly over the edge as he tried not to loose whatever was left in his stomach. 

“Holden, get rid of that thing,” a firm voice hissed moment before hands gently Vega to pull on Finch’s shoulders, forcing him up onto his knees even as he whimpered in protest. “I know. I know, but trust me you don’t want to stay hunched over the trunk. Pongo. Toots. Help me get him over to the bunk. Gently now.”

Finch found that he couldn’t get any of his limbs to cooperate and so hung limply in the gentle grips of his fellow inmates as they carried him from the steamer trunk to the nearest bunk, laying him down on his front so as not to put any pressure on his backside. 

“What’s your name?” 

“...Finch...”

It was a struggle to get even that out. 

“I wish I could say it was nice to meet you Finch,” the boy who seemed to be in charge muttered just as hands started to carefully pull at the newsies clothes, stripping him down to his skin. “We stick together in here; we have to. Snyder has a thing for correcting what he deems as unsuitable behaviour in Omegas.”

Finch let out a huff, unsurprised to learn this. 

“Pongo, go rinse his undershirt and vest off,” the boy ordered softly, nodding towards one of the windows where a couple of buckets of water stood. “Then we can use them as cold compresses for his bruises. And someone rinse the vomit off of his boots and trousers.”

“He’s bleeding.”

“But he had his clothes on...”

“Not there,” the other voice, younger than the first muttered. “His head. Look, Riff, blood.”

“Shit.”

Gentle fingers probed at the back of his head, causing him to whimper in pain as even that proved to be too much. His vision swum once more, even more alarming this time given that he was now lying down, and colours blurred. 

“I need a damp cloth and something to use as a bandage, something relatively clean. Finch? Finch, can you hear me? Your going to be ok.”

He wanted to answer or perhaps simply laugh derisively at the blatant lie he was being told. 

But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

His body finally gave into the pain he had suffered in the last few minutes, both in his existing head wound and the new bruises Snyder had given him, and he knew no more. 

~*~

**A/N** Soooo...hello Newsies Fandom. *waves* I’m a late arrival, I know, but since discovering the musical have become completely and utterly obsessed in a matter of days. I’m reassured that this is not an unusual occurrence. Unfortunately my new obsession has been interfering with my writing as it wouldn’t allow me to continue any of my existing stories until I jumped into the deep end here. This was meant to be a one shot but that didn’t happen. Lol. I’m also getting the feeling that this won’t be my only foray into this particular fandom...whoops. So, anyway, let me now what you think. Marblez x

**A/N2** I wrote this on my phone at work so if there’s any mistakes that look like they might have been autocorrections that I’ve missed please let me know so I can fix them. X 


	2. You’re Allowed To Cry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - a couple of characters get beaten in this chapter

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Newsies, nor will I be making any money out of this story. 

**Summary**: What if Crutchie wasn’t the only one to get snatched up and sent to the Refuge? 

**Warnings**: Violence, Child-Abuse, Omega-Verse

Hold On Until Tomorrow Comes

Chapter Two - You’re Allowed To Cry...

Seeing Specs face through the bars of the window opposite his bed had been like a dream and it had taken him a long moment to believe that what he was seeing was real. 

“Crutchie? Romeo? Finch?”

Below him Romeo, who hadn’t stopped crying since Snyder had taken Finch away, sucked in a loud breath and uncurled from his tight ball. 

“Hey, you guys in there?” 

“...Specs?”

“Romeo!” 

There was no mistaking the relief in their friends voice. 

He hadn’t been expecting to find them. 

Or worse, he had been expecting to find them but in a much worse condition than they were. 

Romeo all but rolled off of his bunk, startling the boys sat on the floor beside it, and hurried over to the window. He was far too short to reach it properly and was only just able to rest his fingers over those wrapped around the bars from the outside whilst up on his tiptoes. 

“Hey,” Specs breathes shakily through the bars, the glass having long ago been broken and left I replaced. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“Yeah, you too,” Crutchie called out, pushing himself up into a seated position on his bed. “How’s everyone else? Did anyone get hurt?”

“Cuts and bruises, nothing serious.”

A frown settled heavily on Specs’ foreheads.

“...where’s Finch?” 

Romeo let out a pathetic little whimper,

“Snyder took him away because he’s an Omega; they have to go in a different room.”

Even from across the room Crutchie could see the moment that Specs realised just what that could and probably _did_ mean for their friend. 

”Oh...”

There was a moment where none of them knew what to say, a silence broken by the murmuring voices of the other boys in the room who were studiously ignoring them. 

“...is Jack going to get us out of here?”

“I don’t know, Ro,” Specs sighed, a flash of guilt crossing his face. “We haven’t...well, we haven’t actually  _ seen  _ Jack since the fight...”

“He didn’t get snatched,” Romeo hastened to point out. “He’s not here or he’d be in here.”

“No, he didn’t get snatched,” Specs agreed softly. “He was...he was seen running away.”

“Jack...Jack wouldn’t just leave us...”

“No,” Crutchie announced firmly, hissing as a shard of pain shot from his twisted foot, travelling up into his thigh. “He wouldn’t.”

He  _ couldn’t  _ have left them. 

They were...they were brothers, weren’t they?

“Have you checked his favourite places to hide?” he found himself enquiring, his hands absently massaging the cramp out of his thigh. “The roof? Or Miss Medda’s theatre?”

“We’ve checked the roof but...”

“Check the theatre,” Crutchie insisted. After a long pause Specs nodded. “And, Specs? Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil? I...I want to write a letter for you to take to Jack.”

“Um...”

Romeo let out a whimper of distress when his hands were released, blinking up at the bars separating him from one of his closest friends. 

There was a long moment where Specs was checking his various pockets, muttering to himself as he did so, before finally there was the sound of something being torn and then a piece of paper and the snub of a pencil were being passed through the bars to Romeo. 

“Snyder’s coming,” a voice called out. “Your friend needs to make himself scarce. Now.”

“I’ll come back later.” 

Romeo stumbles across the room, passing his precious cargo up to Crutchie before literally growing himself onto his bunk and curling into a ball, hiding his face under his arms just as the door swung open. He wasn’t the only one to let out a startled gasp before biting his lip. 

Snyder stepped inside, followed by a couple of heavyset men who were in the process of rolling their sleeves up. All three of them offered the terrified boys a bloodthirsty sneer.

“Time for today’s lesson, boys,” the Warden all but cackled, cracking his knuckles. “Now, let’s see...Philip, Dominick, George and...Charles...”

His heart lurched within his chest. 

“On your feet, boys!” one of the heavyset guards called out, striking the nearest wall with the wooden baton Crutchie hadn’t realised he was carrying. “Times a wasting!”

There was movement around the room, two boys rising from the same bottom bunk whilst another climbed up from his spot on the floor. 

Only Crutchie himself was left. 

Feeling Snyder’s eyes upon him Crutchie pulled himself to the edge of the threadbare mattress, desperately searching for a suitable handhold before carefully lowering himself down to the floor. Unfortunately the guards weren’t satisfied with the speed of his progress and so, with a low growl, one of them reached out and grabbed hold of the back of his collar. There was nothing he could do to stop his descent when the man pulled on his shirt with all his might, a cry of alarm bursting out from him as he tumbled through the air. 

It wasn’t just his leg that screamed with pain when he hit the floor; his hip and arm did too. 

“I said  _ on your feet _ !” 

Crutchie was hauled up onto his feet by the back of his shirt, the fabric briefly choking him until he managed to get his good foot under him. Without his crutch it was difficult to stay upright when the guard released him, his twisted foot resting in its usual position on the ground, and he recognised the look in the guards eyes when they pinpointed his weakness. It was the same look the Delancey brothers wore whenever they picked on him. 

“Ok, let’s see,” Snyder hummed thoughtfully, smirking all the while. Beside him the other three boys were trembling with fear and so Crutchie felt that his panicked breathes were entirely justified; after all they knew what was going on whilst he had absolutely no idea. “Last boy to...touch his toes gets a beating.”

It was instinct to reach down and rest his hands on his feet, folding his body in half at the waist. His crippled foot, whilst limiting his mobility, had never hampered his flexibility. 

“Sorry, Dominick, but you came last.” 

Crutchie gasped, struggling back into his unsteady upright position, when the two guards moved in on the boy at the other end of the line they had automatically formed, bringing their batons down upon his body. 

He cried out in pain, curling up into a ball on the floor with his arms over his head, as they beat him for a good few minutes before a signal from Snyder had them stepping away. 

“Jump, boys,” the Warden sneered at his chosen victims, his gaze resting on Crutchie. “Jump nice and high or you’re screwed...”

Crutchie knew he never had a chance. 

But he tried, he really did. 

And on his first attempt at a jump, something he could normally just about manage, his good leg did a pretty good imitation of his bad leg as it crumpled beneath him, sending him crashing down to the ground with a sharp cry. 

“Oh, dear, new boy,” Snyder laughed down at him, delighted by the prospect of his suffering. “Time for you to learn about disobedience.” 

_Disobedience_. 

How was it  _disobedience_ when he had been set up to fail? 

The first blow stole the breath from his lungs. 

The second struck his cheek, smashing his head into the ground and jumbling his thoughts. 

The third, fourth, fifth and sixth blended into one endless stream of pain. 

His arm. 

His good leg. 

His bad leg. 

Anywhere they could land a blow they did. 

On and on it went until, mercifully it stopped. 

“That’s enough for today’s lessons, boys,” Snyder announced, breaking the silence. “Shame you were able to behave well enough to earn a meal for your fellow prisoners. Never mind; maybe someone will manage it tomorrow.” 

Crutchie didn’t even realise that Snyder and the guards had left, locking the door behind them, until gentle hands helped to carry him back to his bunk. The pencil and paper lay where he had abandoned it on the mattress, Romeo quickly moving to pick it up so that it wasn’t in the way as the younger boy scrambled up to lay beside Crutchie’s body. 

The tears came unbidden. 

Tears of pain. 

Of fear. 

Of humiliation. 

And, worst of all, of hopelessness. 

“Crutchie?”

He couldn’t respond, the pain too great and his despair too heavy just then, so he simply closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. 

It didn’t work. 

Even with is eyes closed and the exhaustion weighing down on him his brain wouldn’t rest. 

He heard the other boys helping his fellow victim back to his own bunk. 

He heard Romeo whimpering beside him, felt his hands fluttering across his body without really touching him out of fear of hurting him. 

But it wasn’t until he heard the other boys settling down to sleep that he gave up on trying to reach that blissful state himself. 

Opening his eyes he looked first to Romeo, finding the younger boy asleep between him and the boy who had offered the other half of the bunk to Crutchie when they had arrived. 

The pencil and piece of paper were clutched tightly in the young newsies hand and the mere sight of the items he’d requested had him shifting to sit with his aching legs on either side of the nearest bedpost. Working the items free of the other boys grip without disturbing him took a good few moments, as did finding the matches and candle that he’d seen one of the other boys hide behind a lose brick in the wall the night before. In only a few minutes, however, he was ready to begin writing his letter. 

But what to write? 

The truth?

That they were cold and scared and hungry and hurt and that Finch has been taken away?

No, his protective Alpha friend didn’t need any more guilt adding on to what he must already be feeling having watched Crutchie being dragged away, literally. Jack has always been their leader, protective to a fault not only because of his instincts but his own personality; he was, in Crutchie’s eyes at least, precisely what an Alpha should be. Kind. Caring. Strong. Reliable. And never, ever cruel. 

There were so many Alphas who blamed their instincts for their own shortcomings, for their tempers and violent outbursts and their jealousy. 

Jack was not one of them. 

So, no, Crutchie couldn’t tell him the truth. 

With that in mind he began to write, the pencil scratching across what seemed to be the front page of a book that Specs must been reading. 

That he damaged one of his precious books for Crutchie’s sake spoke volumes. 

As he wrote he found himself putting a light-hearted spin on some of the things that happened, unable to stop himself from trying to comfort his friend. He was a Beta, after all, and it was literally in his nature to interpose when needed, to mediate, to keep the peace. 

It wasn’t until the end of the somewhat rambling letter that he realised what he actually wanted and needed to say...

“...Crutchie?” 

“Hey,” he whispered back at Romeo who was pushing himself up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The other boy shifted to sit as close to Crutchie’s side as he possibly could. “You ok?” 

Romeo nodded, looking down at the letter. 

“ _Dear Jack_ ,” the younger boy read aloud. “ _Greetings from the Refuge. How are you? I’m ok_... are you ok? You...you don’t look ok...”

“I will be,” Crutchie promised his friend. “And Jack doesn’t need to know everything about this place. He’ll already have assumed some of it; don’t forget, he’s been sent here too.”

Romeo nodded, leaning his head on Crutchie’s shoulder. 

“Want me to read it to you?” 

“Yes, please.”

“ _Dear Jack_ ,” Crutchie began the letter again, keeping his voice as bright as possible for the sake of the boy leaning on him. “ _Greetings from the refuge. How are you? I'm okay. Guess I wasn't much help yesterday. Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch._”

He paused, realising something important which he added I between what he’d already written.

“ _Oh yeah, Jack, this is Crutchie by the way_ .”

His addition succeeded in one thing at least; it brought a smile to Romeo’s face. 

“ _These here guards, they is rude. They say jump, boy, you jump or you're screwed. But the food ain't so bad 'least so far, ‘Cause so far they ain't brung us no food_, ” he paused to add another quick addition. “ _Ha-ha_ .”

This time Romeo let out an involuntary giggle. 

“_I miss the rooftop. Sleeping right out in the open in your penthouse in the sky. There's a cool breeze blowing even in July_,”  he continued, his voice growing louder than he’d intended as he spoke of the place he had always felt safest thanks to the presence of his friend. “ _ Anyway, so guess what, there’s this secret escape plan I got. Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, climb down, then take of like a shot. Maybe though, not tonight. I ain't slept and my leg still ain't right .” _

“Plus there’s, you know, bars...”

“I know,” Crutchie sighed. “I’m just trying to make Jack smile a little bit. I don’t...I don’t think he’ll be handling this very well, do you?”

Romeo shook his head in response. 

“ _Hey, but Pulitzer, he's going down_ _,_” Crutchie took up his reading once more. “ _And then Jack I was thinking we might just go like you were saying. Where it's clean and green and pretty, with no buildings in your way and you're riding palominos, every day. Once that train makes_...”

Both of the newsies jumped when the boy beside them hissed loudly, waving his arm across at them in order to shut them up. 

“Damn this place...”

Romeo nodded, so much sadness on his young face that it made Crutchie’s heart shudder. He couldn’t not continue, even though they were now disturbing people, because as much as Jack needed to listen to the last part of his letter so did poor Romeo. 

“ _I'll be fine, good as new, but there's one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop you said that a family looks out for each other. So you tell all the fellas for me to protect one another_. ”

Romeo sniffed loudly, rubbing his cheek against Crutchie’s shoulder even as one of his hands moved to wipe away his building tears. 

“ _The end. Your friend_ ,” here Crutchie paused, struck by the need to make a series of alterations all of a sudden. “ _Your best friend. Your brother, Crutchie._” 

“All right, already!” one of the boys from the bunk below them called out, hitting his hand against the bedposts. “Go to sleep!” 

Crutchie and Romeo froze, the younger boy pulling back so that their gaze could meet...before they both let out the tiniest of giggles, physically unable to stop themselves. 

“...can I add a little bit, Crutchie?” 

Romeo’s question was posed as quickly as he possibly could and Crutchie nodded at once. 

He watched as the younger boy added a couple of sentences to the bottom of the page. 

‘_Dear Jak. I’m looking out for Crutchie as best as I can. Snyder took Finch sumwere else but he’s ok, I think. We’ll be fine until you finish the Strike. I promise. Romeo_.’ 

“...is that ok?” 

Crutchie decided not to bother pointing out the two spelling mistakes, instead he just nodded and set about folding the letter up. 

On the outside he added Jacks name. 

Now all they could do was wait for Specs to come back so they could get the letter to their friend and leader. He came, just as he said he would, and Romeo risked the wrath of Snyder to pass the letter through the bars to him. 

Jack himself came a couple of hours later, just as Crutchie was finally drifting off to sleep. 

“Come to the window.”

“I can’t,” Crutchie hissed, trying not to disturb Romeo who had fallen back to sleep by then. “Snyder...I got a...a beating earlier...my leg...”

Jack’s hands clenched around the bars. 

“I’m going to get you guys out of here, Crutchie,” the Alpha all but growled. “I promise.”

And, despite everything that told him it was impossible, Crutchie believed him. 

~*~

**A/N** This chapter took a little longer to get right than the first as it was tricky to work in everything that is mentioned in the musical (Specs bringing the note/Jack visiting/etc) but I got there in the end. I love Crutchie (pure sunshine) and Romeo (adorable fluff) and I hated making them cry but it still happened. One more chapter to go. Comments & Suggestions welcome. Marblez x

**A/N2** Once again this was written on my phone so if anyone spots any autocorrect mistakes please let me know. X 


	3. But Do Not Give Up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - references to sexual assault and attempted sexual assault

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Newsies, nor will I be making any money out of this story. 

**Summary**: What if Crutchie wasn’t the only one to get snatched up and sent to the Refuge? 

**Warnings**: Violence, Child-Abuse, Omega-Verse, References to Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault 

Hold On Until Tomorrow Comes

Chapter Three - But Do Not Give Up.

Nightmares normally didn’t bother Finch all that much, the unpleasant dreams fading rapidly once he was awake, but this time it was all he could do to hold back his tears. 

Perhaps it was the fact that the nightmare had in fact been a memory, twisted around though it was, that kept it fresh in his mind. He’d dreamed of the fight, of the moment he was snatched, only in his dream everyone else got snatched up as well leaving them trapped in the Refuge with no plan of escape or rescue.

Or perhaps it was the fact that he had woken surrounded by strangers in the very place of his nightmares. Normally he’d hear Race, unable to stop talking even in his sleep, or Jojo and Buttons snoring or Smalls tapping out a rhythm on something what he couldn’t sleep. Each noise, annoying as they were to try to go to sleep to, were reassuring to wake up to; it meant that his friends were still around him. 

However the thing which had finally broken him, reducing him to fighting back his tears, was when he had automatically reached for the slingshot he had been carrying in the waistband of his trousers for years...only to find nothing but empty air and dirty fabric. 

His trusty slingshot was gone and he had no idea when or where he had lost it. 

During the fight? 

On the way to the Refuge?

Or had Snyder taken it from him?

He didn’t know, couldn’t remember...

“Hey,” the boy who’s boy he was sharing called out softly, a hand moving to rest on his shoulder. It squeezed reassuringly, temporarily stopping it from shaking. “It’s ok. Your ok. It was just a nightmare. We all get them here.”

“...not as reassuring as you probably meant it to be...” Finch muttered dryly as he rolled over to face the other boy. He could clearly making out the soft features of the boys face in the early morning light; the  very  early morning light. It was Toots, one of the ones that had helped care for him after his caning, and the other inmate offered him a broad smile in response to his observation. “But thanks...”

A day had passed since his caning, his first full conscious day inside the Refuge, and Finch had spent most of it trying to get to know his fellow Omegas with little success. Some were willing to talk to him, like Toots and Riff who seemed to be the leader, but most simply wanted to keep themselves to themselves. 

Finch couldn’t really blame them. 

They’d been fed at what had felt like midday, a foul gruel like substance which had tasted like sawdust and felt like lukewarm paste, and just as they were finishing their meagre portions Snyder had arrived in all his repulsive glory. 

Finch had copied those around him when they lowered their heads, not out of respect but out of fear, in order to avoid eye contact with him. 

“Holden,” the Alpha had eventually called out, prompting the boy in question let out a high pitched whimper. “It’s time for your lesson.” 

“Yes, Mr Snyder.”

A deep frown had settled on Finch’s forehead as he’d listened to the obviously frightened boy obediently follow the warden out of the room, the guards clearing away the large pot, ladle and the stack of dirty bowls the inmates had used before following. As soon as the door had been shut and locked the Omegas around him had let out a collective sigh of relief and had settled back into their bunks. 

“...what just happened?” 

A look of pity had been sent his way by most. 

“Snyder has very specific ideas of how Omegas like us should and shouldn’t behave,” Riff had finally answered, crossing the room to sit on the bunk beside Finch. Despite being older Riff was quite a bit shorter than Finch, more in keeping with the ideal image that Omegas should posses whilst Finch himself could almost pass for a Beta. “So every day he takes one of us to his office for a lesson.” 

“...a  _lesson_ ?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your own lesson in obedience already,” one of the standoffish boys nearer the door snorted, gesturing towards the cane hanging from its hook on the wall. “You’ll get plenty more of those, we all do, but a public lesson is nothing compared to one of his private lessons...”

“Jakes, don’t,” Riff had ordered sharply, silencing the other boy before turning his attention back to Finch. “Look, I won’t beat around the bush. I  can’t  afford to for your sake. Snyder has  _very_ traditional views of how an Omega should behave depending on their  _social standing_ . Now, what this means for us is that in his eyes we should be completely obedient to any Alpha we come across in our lives and that we should feel honoured that they were willing to pay attention to us at all.”

“But...”

“I know. It’s bullshit but it’s what he believes so that’s what he’s trying to beat into us,” Riff presses on. “Obedience, pretty much blind obedience, and subservience. And he does this by beating the shit out of us when we do something he doesn’t approve of and by taking us for private lessons where he...”

Finch had drowned in confusion when Riff had trailed off, struggling to form the right words. 

“...where he will expect you to be suitably submissive and if you aren’t then he’ll...” Riff had taken a deep breath before all but blurring our the final part of his explanation. “...force you to service him  _as an Omega should_ ...”

It had taken Finch a few moments to realise what the other boy was implying. 

Snyder was forcing the Omegas in his “care” to pleasure him sexually. 

That was...that was...

It had almost caused him to bring his pathetic meal straight back up, the colour draining from his face. He’d never...he’d never done _anything_ like that, not even during his Heat. 

He might not have had the best upbringing life could afford but even he knew that such an act should only be done willingly, never by force and certainly never as part of a lesson. 

“Yeah, we know,” Jakes had muttered bitterly from across the room, easily reading the emotions playing across the Finch’s face. A few of the other boys had offered him looks filled with sympathy and pity. “Better to just accept its going to happen. Fighting back only makes it worse. Trust me; it’s not worth it.” 

Holden has been returned a couple of hours later, his skin bruised, his eyes red rimmed. 

He hadn’t talked to anyone, just climbed into his bunk and curled up into a little ball. 

Finch had been unable to stop staring across at him, his eyes filled with horror and disgust. 

He still couldn’t, his head twisting to glance across to where he other boy was sleeping. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“My nightmare?” Finch asked softly, trying not to disturb any of the other boys. “Or Snyder?”

“Either,” Toots responded. “Both.”

“It was...it was about the day I was snatched and brought here,” he found himself explaining softly. “Only all of my friends were caught too.”

“Ah, that old chestnut,” Toots hummed, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Finch’s arm. “For me it’s my brothers. I see their faces in my dreams, see them here...”

“My friends are all the family I’ve got,” Finch found himself explaining, casting his mind back to his real family. He’d run away from home so long ago that he could barely remember them. All he knew was that there had been so many of them he’d felt suffocated and trapped. “It’s already bad enough knowing that Crutchie and Romeo are here.”

“Alphas?”

Finch shook his head. 

“Crutchie’s a Beta,” he answered. “And Romeo is too young to have presented yet.”

A terrible thought burned through his mind. 

“Snyder...Snyder wouldn’t make them...?”

“No,” Toots answered quickly. “He’ll only touch us Omegas. Says that as an Alpha it’s his duty and his right, that any Alpha who willingly lies with his own kind or a Beta is going to Hell.”

“Pretty sure he’s still going to Hell,” Finch found himself muttering darkly, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “Like all the other rapists.” 

Toots snorted softly. 

“Yeah, you got that right...”

They spoke softly until the other boys began to wake up around them, the room growing lighter as the sun rose higher into the sky. 

Toots told him about his family, a loving and caring family by the sounds of it who he was counting down the days until he could see them again, and about how he ended up in the Refuge; truancy. He hadn’t gone to school for a couple of weeks, working instead, so they’d sent him to a place like this as punishment. 

It seemed ridiculous to Finch, given that he’d never gone to school in his life, and he’d said as much to the other boy. This had led on to a conversation of if he could read and, after confirming that he could, how he’d learnt to. 

“Jack Kelly,” Finch responded with a sad smile. “You May have heard Snyder curse his name a time or two. Only boy to ever successfully break out of this place. He’s the leader of the Manhattan newsies now and he taught me and a few of the others to read the headlines.”

“Just the headlines?”

“To begin with, yeah,” Finch confirmed. “But now I can read the whole thing if I want to do long as they don’t use any big, fancy words.” 

“You know Jack Kelly?” Pongo called out as he jumped down from the bunk above theirs, his feet barely making a sound as they hit the floor. “He’s a legend in here. Snyder _hates_ him .” 

“I do,” Finch confirmed. “He’s my friend.”

“Does Snyder know he’s your friend?” 

This question came from Riff and was filled with concern. 

Finch nodded. 

“Jack was with us when me and my friends got snatched but he and the others got away,” he explained, realising suddenly that every single boy in the room was staring at him. “What?” 

“You need to do everything Snyder tells you to without question or argument,” Riff announced firmly. “He’ll punish you in Kelly’s place, you realise? Use you as a...what’s the word...as a surrogate for the boy he can’t get his hands on, you and your friends in the other room.”

The thought of Snyder taking out his hatred of Jack on Crutchie, on Romeo, made his stomach lurch even more than the prospect of what was inevitably going to happen to him did. They weren’t...they weren’t as strong as Finch was, even though he was technically supposed to be weaker due to his designation, what with Crutchie’s leg and Romeos naivety. 

“If you’re going to be sick do it in the bucket in the corner of the room or else you’ll get in trouble for making a mess,” Toots advised him, nodding towards the foul smelling bucket. It was the only toilet available to them all and was emptied at the end of each day, or so he’d learned the day before. Sadly this did nothing to remove the smell. “No one will judge you.” 

“No, I’m good,” Finch muttered, covering his mouth with one hand whilst the other rated on his stomach as he forced it to calm down. “I’m...”

Of course it was just at that moment that he door swung open to admit Snyder. 

“Good Morning, boys,” he called out as every face turned away from him, chuckling deeply. “And what a beautiful morning it is.” 

They only got fed once every couple of days, depending on their behaviour, so it was no surprise that he had come alone. That he had come quite a bit earlier was a bit concerning. 

“Everyone up; its time for your weekly visit to the exercise yard,” the warden announced, clapping his hands together. As one the rooms occupants left their bunks, filing obediently towards the door. Finch had learned a bit about the weekly routine the day before and so wasn’t surprised that they were heading outside. What did surprise him was the hand which settled on the back of his neck. “Not you, new boy. It’s time for your first lesson.” 

A shudder ran down his spine from the point where the Alpha had taken hold of him, his eyes going wide with fear as he watched the other Omegas disappear around the corner. 

“Come along, Patrick.”

_Finch_ , he longed to say,  _My name is Finch. _

His only response was the begin walking when the Alpha used the grip he had on the back of the newsies neck to turn him around and start him moving in the opposite direction to the one that the other Omegas had taken, heading further into the Refuge rather than to the yard. 

In a matter of minutes they came to a door, one not covered in a variety of locks, and when Snyder pushes it open it revealed a surprisingly modest office. There was a desk, a simple chair and a couple of bookcases, all of which looked like they had seen better days. It didn’t escape the Omegas notice that the bookcases were covered in a layer of dust. 

“Kneel.”

The command was given so suddenly that it took Finch completely by surprise and, rather than obeying as the other boys had advised him to, he froze. A moment passed, during which time Snyder calmly closed the door. He didn’t lock it, Finch noted; he probably assumed that none of his victims would be stupid enough to try and run away from him. 

When he realised that Finch hadn’t moved the Alpha froze, his expression darkening. 

“I said. Kneel.” 

“I...”

Before another sound could pass through his lips his cheek erupted in pain as he was viciously back-handed with enough force to send him smashing into the side of the desk, the corner of which dig into his side and stole the breath from his lungs. Dazed by the blow he could do nothing but crumple to the floor. 

A hand took hold of him by the hair and dragged him up onto his knees before he realised what was happening, pulling harshly on the dirty blond strands until he cried out. 

“A good Omega should obey any order given to them by an Alpha immediately and without complaint,” Snyder all but growled down at him, shaking him by his hair. “I can see I’m going to have my work cut out for me with you. Not that I’m surprised. I mean, look at you. Too tall. Too muscular. Too skinny. What, are you trying to pass for a Beta, boy? Is that it?” 

As his head was given a sudden shake Finch felt a large clump pull free of his scalp due to the rough treatment, tears of pain welling up in his eyes as the scent of blood filled the air. 

Snyder scoffed, finally releasing the painful grip he had on Finch’s hair only to take hold of his chin instead, pulling his face up until his neck began to protest at the extreme stretch. 

“Pretty eyes though,” the Alpha hummed thoughtfully. “Your only saving grace, I think.”

In response Finch found himself clenching his eyes as tightly shut as he could manage. 

“None of that now,” Snyder muttered, the grip he had on the teenagers chin becoming so tight that he couldn’t stop himself from crying out, his eyes flying open against his will. “Eyes open unless I tell you otherwise, understand?”

A door slammed somewhere but Snyder paid it no heed, focusing instead on striking his thumb back and forth across Finch’s cheek. 

“Yes, keep those eyes open for me...”

The thumb strayed down to his lips, passing over them to begin with before pulling at his bottom lips, trying to gain access to his mouth. 

Luckily for Finch that was when the shouting started. 

“What the...?” 

Between one breath and the next the door to the room was thrown open and an unfamiliar figure stormed inside, eyes filled with rage as he took in the sight of the obviously terrified Finch on his knees in front of Snyder. Close behind him came the last person Finch expected to see inside such a horrible place. 

“...Miss Plumber?” 

“Finch!” Katherine, the reporter that Jack was so completely smitten with, gasped in horror when she caught sight of the newsie. “What are you...? Get away from him, you monster!” 

A policeman shouldered past her and Finch thought for sure he was done for, the lawmen usually aiding against the likes of him. Only this time the uniformed officer went straight for Mr Snyder, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from Finch. The warden cried out in protest and alarm whilst the poor Omega, no longer being held in place by the Alpha, crumpled into a heap on the floor. 

Gentle hands settled on his back, rubbing soothingly, and when he looked up he found Katherine kneeling beside him, her head tilted down so that they were only inches apart. 

“Finch,” she breathed softly. “It’s alright.”

“He...he was going to...”

“I know. We know,” she murmured, her hands encouraging him to sit up so that she could pull him into her embrace. She smelled of cut flowers and soap. Without meaning to he birdied his face into her shoulder. “Jack told me what the warden was up to. He had some drawings which I brought to the Governor...”

The Governor. 

_ The Governor .  _

His eyes snapped up to the well dressed man who was still partially blocking the doorway. 

Was that...?

No, it  _couldn’t_ be...

“Gentlemen, the Refuge is from this moment on closed for business pending a full investigation of Mr Snyder and his activities,” Governor Roosevelt announced, tapping his walking cane on the ground to emphasis what he was saying. “Mistreatment of children is bad enough but mistreatment of Omegas... Good God, man, do you have no shame?” 

Fingers began running through his hair only to pause suddenly when they got caught in the dried blood on the back of his head, a gasp escaping the young woman holding him in her arms when she realised what had happened. 

“Finch, what happened to your head?”

“I got hit in the head when I was snatched,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “By a...a baseball bat, I think. The boys tried to clean it up but...”

A tense silence followed. 

“Do you have any other untreated injuries, son?”

Pulling away from the young woman’s shoulder Finch blinked nervously up at Governor Roosevelt before answering,

“Just bruises, sir. I was...Mr Snyder gave me a caning and...and struck me but nothing more.”

“A caning,” Roosevelt repeated tensely before turning to glare at Snyder. “You  _caned_ him?”

Snyder, clearly sensing that the game was up, said nothing lest he implicate himself further. 

“Get him out of my sight,” Roosevelt all but spat the policeman holding the warden. “I have some more business to attend to but then I shall escort him to the police station myself so keeping him nearby but restrained.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” 

Finch watched with wide eyes, barely believing what he was seeing, as the policeman was joined by one of his colleagues and the two of them literally dragged Snyder from the room. 

“I want every boy held in this damned place released within the hour,” Roosevelt continued, addressing the large group of men gathered outside the room. Some were policemen, others smartly dressed civilians. “Sisters?” 

The group of men parted like the Red Sea to allow three very familiar nuns to step into the room, their eyes filled with pain and sympathy. 

One, the bespectacled one who was always so concerned with Elmers wellbeing and immortal soul, moved at once to crouch beside him. 

“Hello Finch,” she murmured soothingly, her lilting voice washing over him. His body literally sagged with relief when she reach out to cradle his jaw. “Let’s get you out of here sweetheart. We’ve got some food prepared for you and the other boys. Then, once you’ve been suitably fed, we’ll have a look at those injuries of yours before you rejoin your friends.”

“Thank you, Sister.” 

“Excellent. That’s settled then,” Roosevelt declared. “Gentlemen, you are at the Sisters disposal from here on out. Miss Pulitzer?”

“...Pulitzer?” Finch mumbled, confused. “But...”

“I’ll explain later,” the young reporter promised. “But I’m on your side, I swear.” 

Time passed by on a blur from that moment on. Miss Plumb...Pulitzer disappeared with Governor Roosevelt and Miss Medda who he hadn’t even realised was there to “complete their mission” which Finch hoped was to do with ending the strike in favour of the newsies. 

Finch allowed himself to be helped out the Refuge, joining the flow of stunned boys as they were led through the streets to the safety of the convent. A flock of nuns welcomed them with open arms, pulling them into the building most of them had never even noticed before, and the next thing he knew Finch was wrapped in a blanket and drinking hot soup out of a tin mug, a slice of bread in his hand. 

It was just as he was mopping up the last of the soup with the bread that he heard his name being called in an unmistakable voice,

“Finch!” 

“Crutchie!” he gasped, dripping his cup to the floor in his haste to throw himself up off of the bench he’d been perched on and into the arms of his friend. A second set of arms wrapped tightly around his middle. “Romeo! You’re...”

“We’re ok,” Crutchie reassures him, swaying worryingly despite his words. His friends skin bore more bruises than he remembered seeing before he’d been separated from them. Romeo, however, was mercifully unharmed. “We’re ok. What about you? What did he...”

“I’m ok,” Finch interrupted the Beta quickly. “He...he caned me but that was all. I swear.” 

The knowing look in Crutchie’s eyes told him that his friend suspected, correctly, that it wasn’t for lack of trying. Finch didn’t know if he’d ever tell his friend just how close he had coming to being sexually assaulted by Snyder. 

From that moment on the three of them refused to be separated, clutching each other’s hands as tightly as they could. 

The Sisters did what the could to treat their various injuries, cleaning the cuts that he and Crutchie were sporting, icing all three of their bruises and binding Romeos sprained ankle. 

Finch’s head wound caused a lot of concern but he refused to even consider allowing them to get a doctor for him; he simply couldn’t afford such a luxury given that he hadn’t sold a single paper in almost a week and, once the wound had been cleaned and bandaged, it barely hurt at all. He could put up with a throbbing headache for a few more days. 

And then they were free to go. 

“Go where?”

“Newsies square, course,” the bespectacled nun answered with a laugh. “You don’t want to miss the end of your own strike, now, do you?” 

Eyes wide with hope the three friends made their way through the streets as quickly as they could with Crutchie’s bad leg and their various injuries, catching sight of Mr Snyder being frogmarched towards their destination up ahead of them. The sight of their tormentor being hauled along by a couple of policemen was enough to bring smiles to their faces. 

Finch hadn’t been able to truly appreciate the moment Snyder had been hauled away before, still suffering from shock as he had been. Now he shared a look with Crutchie and Romeo as they overtook the unusual trio of men, making their way along an alley towards the square. 

“...must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day,” the familiar booming voice of Governor Roosevelt filled their ears as they approached the end of the alley. Almost as one they drifted to a halt just shy of joining their friends, hands linked as they waited in the shadows. “You have laid claim to our world and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous!”

A passionate round of applause sounded. 

“We did it,” Crutchie gasped, eyes glistening as he gazed up at Jack standing beside the Governor and Pulitzer himself. “ _We did it!”_

“We did,” Finch laughed. “We won.”

And Roosevelt wasn’t finished. 

They knew what was coming next when he turned to address Jack, clear enough that they could still hear every word he said. 

“Your drawings, son, brought another matter to bear,” he paused, smirking across at the street that ran parallel to the alley they had used as a cut through. “Officers, if you please.”

A police whistle blew sharply. 

“I think that’s our cue, boys.” 

Sharing one final grin the three of them stepped out into the light just as their friends turned in search of the source of the whistle. 

“Hey, Jack, look!” Race called out, his voice filled with amazement and joy. “It’s Crutchie! And Romeo! Finch! They’re back! They’re ok!”

Finch had only taken a couple of steps out of the alley before he found himself almost knocked of his feet by the force of Albert throwing himself into his arms, the strong arms of the sweet smelling Alpha encircling him so tightly he felt completely protected. 

At his side Buttons has literally scooped Romeo off of his feet, squeezing so tightly there was a real chance the younger boy would soon begin struggling to breathe. 

“Hiya, fellas,” Crutchie called out, stepping around his embracing friends. “You miss us?”

A resounding cry of agreement sounded. 

Movement to their left prompted Crutchie, their eternal ray of sunshine, to improvise. 

“Oh, and look what we’ve got for you. A gift, straight from the Refuge,” he announced, gesturing towards the policemen entering the square. “All right, bring him in, fellas!” 

It seemed that Crutchie’s smile worked on policemen now as they went with his theatrics, dragging Mr Snyder before the teenagers. 

Race let out a laugh of pure delight,

“Oh! It’s Snyder the Spider!” 

The former warden of the Refuge growled at hearing his hated nickname, glaring around at them before settling his angry gaze on Finch as though his lack of fortune was all his fault. 

“Jack, with those drawings you’ve made an eloquent argument for shutting down the Refuge,” Governor Roosevelt explained. “Be assured that Mr Snyder’s abuses will be fully investigated. Officers, take him away!” 

Crutchie jumped forwards, pulling off his cap as he addressed the important individual, 

“Oh, please, your highness, may I do the honours?” 

“You have got to be joking!” 

Snyder’s angry response brought about much laughter from the newsies as Crutchie moved forwards to snap the handcuffs on his wrists. 

“Oh yeah, and you’ll be laughing all the way to the pen, little man,” the Beta laughed brightly, mimicking the words Snyder had used against him. Hopping along after the policemen when they began to lead Snyder away Crutchie used his trusty crutch to deliver a sharp blow to he Alphas behind, much to everyone’s delight. It served the horrid man right. “So long, sucker!”

Albert reluctantly pulled away from Finch. 

“You ok?”

“I will be,” he responded honestly, tucking himself into his friends side. Albert responded by winding an arm around his waist. “I can’t believe it’s really over. That was actually did it.”

“Believe it.” 

It took some time for them to overcome the scars, both physical and mental, that their time in the Refuge had left them with. Finch in particular suffered terribly from nightmares. 

He stayed in contact with a couple of the other Omegas from the Refuge, particularly Riff and Toots who went so far as to introduce him to his family. Others he never saw again. 

They returned to work, the prices still higher than before but now the paper bought back any Papes that they were unable to sell so they were all willing to risk spending more on them in the first place. Jack did some work for the paper, caricatures and sketches, of what was really happening in the city and none of them could have been prouder of their leader. 

And, when the time came for Finch’s first Heat following his unjust incarceration he wasn’t afraid. No, because he had his friends to keep him safe from harm and Albert, who he’d found himself growing closer to than ever before, to see him through the difficult period. 

Their future was still uncertain, just as everyone’s was, but their present was good and that really was enough for all of them. 

~ The End ~ 

**A/N** So here ends my first foray into the Newsies fandom and I am not completely sure that it will not be my last as writing this short story has opened me up to so many possibilities with the characters available. Please let me know if you enjoyed this story and I’m always happy to listen to suggestions/requests. Marblez x 

**A/N2** Yeah, you guessed it - this was once again written on my phone and this time it was finished in the early hours of the morning as it wouldn’t let me sleep until it was complete so if you spot any autocorrections I missed please let me know. 


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